Blessed Cursedness
by Chrystel Malfoy-Potter
Summary: QLC. All power comes with a price, whether it is a blessing or a curse. The children of the Faithful have always been rewarded on their eighth birthday, with something nice or not. For Petunia, it was old age. For Lily, it was a protection for her son. For Harry, it was a guardian. But at what price?


**Disclaimer**: Much to my dismay, and for many others I am sure, the book series Harry Potter does not, and will never, belong to me. So thank you J. K Rowling for allowing us to borrow your characters and books.

**Warnings**: religious overtures, slight swearing, … so please, **if you are are religious, don't read!**

**AN**: I somehow got persuaded to join the **Quidditch League Competition** so I'll be writing a oneshot every two weeks to try to win this tournament. Every two weeks, I will be given a prompt that I will have to fulfill as Captain of the Kenmare Kestrels. The stories must be T-rated, minimum 1,000 words and maximum 3,000. Wish me luck so that my team and I can win. =)

This week, I have to choose a song, where a part of the lyrics is given to me as an inspiration. The song I have chosen is _**Hand of Sorrow**_ by **Within Temptation**. The lyrics I have been given are _"The curse of his powers tormented his life/Obeying the crown was a sinister price"._

The inspiration can be anything, as long as it is a bit logical. Hope this fits.

**Summary**: QLC. All power comes with a price, whether it is a blessing or a curse. The children of the Faithful have always been rewarded on their eighth birthday, with something nice or not. For Petunia, it was old age. For Lily, it was a protection for her son. For Harry, it was a guardian. But at what price?

**Word-Count: 2, 315 words (including the title).**

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**Blessed Cursedness**

It is said that when a child it born, from the day of its birth to the eight day of his life, an angel shall guard it from any evil and dangers of the word, during the day and during the night. In order to call the angel upon the child, a sword is placed under the crib during those eight crucial days. After that, for the next three years of the child's life, the angel would disappear in the background unless great danger threatens the child. Another way for It to be recalled was through a particular ritual.

Such a ritual was given to certain families, as a reward for their continuous loyalty and piousness to God, the Almighty. It was one of the many protections for the children of His Faithfuls.

The Evans were such a family, one of the Twelve who faithfully served God in the most purest form, passed down by God itself to their ancestor so long ago. Each child, upon the day of his birth, eight years later, was given a sort of gift to help him (or her) survive and live until God called him (or her) back to His Side. Only those that remained faithful could recall such a gift, the memory erased when they strayed. According to the importance of the gift, the child, once reaching adulthood, had to pay a price. Sometimes some materialistic or sentimental, other times it was mentally.

Petunia Dursley's, née Evan, gift was the one that saved her life at a great cost. On the eve of her eighth birthday, she received two visions that showed her day of death. The first one was in agony, her body being racked in pain by invisible knives that were cutting her, blue flames that could not be extinguish while her body was thrown everywhere as if she was some rag-doll. She even saw herself mutilating her baby and husband — their faces hidden from her gaze —, with a gleeful expression of ecstasy. She was only twenty-five.

The second dream saw her on her death bed, surround by her friends and family at a ripe old age, her white hair and wrinkled skin attesting to the fact. However, she could hear a Voice, neither man or woman, explaining to her what she must do in order to realize this particular scenario. Iciness passed through her body as she heard the instructions: she must burn all bridges with her sister on the latter's eleventh birthday and act as she hated her with all her might. Only then would she be able to live.

Traumatized, the young child woke up in tears, confiding to her mother as to what she saw, wanting her opinion about her baby sister who was only fifteen months younger than her. Her answer didn't bring any comfort as Rosalie Evans explained to her daughter that is was God's Will and that she alone must choose. The birthday was a more somber celebration between the family members, as Petunia refused that Lily left her sight for even a second. Four years later, Petunia made her choice under the urges of Lily who didn't want her sister dead. Better an estranged sister than a dead one.

On the other hand, Lily's gift was a piece of parchment under her pillow the morning she woke up upon her eighth birthday. It was written in Ancient Hebrew with a message above the prayer.

**Until you know how to use it, keep it near your heart.**

The next couple of hours were used by the family to commission a locket where the folded parchment was kept. It never left the red-head's neck for the next sixteen years of her life, the parchment taken only in order to learn how to read it, up until Lord Voldemort attacked her family on that fateful Halloween night. James stalled the Dark Lord to the best of his capabilities, giving precious minutes for his wife to escape. She couldn't as an Anti-Portkey field had been set up, blocking her retreat, as well as her locket started to glow.

That was when Lily took out the little prayer which she read out loud.

_Elohim, Elohim, Elohim._

_lhegn 'el 'emek dem shel hedm shely, shely besher besher. ten nepshek apevtervepves lhegn 'el 'eyeny yeld 'ed aveybek n'elem._

As soon as she finished reading it, the door was blasted away by the twisted Dark Lord, as God demanded His First Price for his _Mala'ak_ to come forth and protect his charge once more for far longer. Lily Potter, née Evans, did not die by the Killing Curse, as history would remember it to be.

_—Angel: a messenger or warrior of god. Mostly believed to be male rather than female. —_

Petunia had another dream the day her sister died. Just like the first time she received such a nightmare, she was shown two ways she could die. The first one violent and gruesome, where she saw herself being tortured, then killing her beloved Vernon and Dudley with that same sick expression on her face, before being killed herself painfully. The second one showed the same thing as on her eighth birthday with that same androgenic voice explaining what she must do.

Although Petunia should have been used to the fact that she was estranged with her sister, involuntary mind you, she could not bare the thought that she would have to do it with her nephew as well. Not only would she have to mistreat him (she would find any loopholes possible to minimize the damage, God help her!), but she would have to do a delicate balancing act so that her son would not learn the wrong values early in age.

Still, she made her choice, as she did sixteen years ago. Thankfully, Vernon was with her, understanding what she must do to save her family's lives. They thought up a plan as to how they could stretch the instructions to the very limit, carefully preparing for the next sixteen years in this sensitive game that they must play.

By the next morning, their nephew arrived, swaddled in blue blankets in a small basket, a letter with green writing on the front clutched in his hand. Petunia was furious as October night's weren't known for their warmth and sent a small prayer to God for protecting the boy. Carefully, she brought him in her home, and started her charade with her husband.

That was the Second Price that God demanded for young Harry's protection.

— "_At that time shall Michael rise up, the great prince, who standeth for the children of thy people." _**Dan. 12:1**—

As far as Harry could remember, Michael had always been an invisible presence by his side. The Angel of the Lord, as was explained to him, daily changed His Appearance according to His Mood and Whim, only His Sword being the same, gleaming article by his side. It was Michael who explained as to why his relatives were so _mean_ to him, downtrodden him without passing the abusive stage if they could.

It was also the Great Prince who explained to Harry his gift from God, the Almighty, on the boy's eighth birthday: the Guardian Angel as a reward for remaining faithful up until today. That very same faith that was taught in it's purest form by the one closest to the Lord.

Harry was also explained the Third and Final Price for such a protection until the duty of his protector was over: Eternal Loneliness. Harry would be unable to form links of friendship or family until the danger dogging him is completely obliterated from Earth. For Tom M. Riddle, as that was his name at birth, was still alive, half in the Mortal Plane and half in the Spiritual World. Until such an Abomination have regained a more physical form, Michael could not do anything except protect his charge to the best of his abilities.

Harry didn't feel loneliness. For how could he be lonely if he had Michael by his side, as well as the animals around him and the spirits which surround him? How could feel sadness at such a fate while knowing that it would only temporary?

— _Michael: The ultimate Angel of Protection. He protects each children from all danger and accidents. —_

Hogwarts was a magical place where Harry could feel the Hand of the Lord in every stone. His Spirit resounding more profoundly in the House of Lion, known as Gryffindor, as Michael guided the Sorting Hat to choose the correct place for his charge. The House would also provide a measure of security that he could not always do.

The school was also place where Harry Potter could turn over a new leaf. A new leaf where the young boy truly felt the weight of the Third Price demanded by his Lord. The boy had two friends, his very first in human form. A red-head boy he had met on the train by the name of Ronald Weasley and a brunet girl he had saved from a Troll (with the help of his Angel) called Hermione Granger.

He first lost Ron in Second Year.

_"What do you mean Ginny is dead? Why couldn't you save her?!" Ron demanded hoarsely at his former friend. "You are the Heir of Slytherin, are you not? So why couldn't you save her?"_

_Tears fell down from green eyes from such strikes to his heart from which he could not refute. It was not his fault that Michael told him to delay his parting for a couple of seconds, to allow the soul of young Ginny Weasley to come back to the Lord as it was her time._

_The deafening silence accompanied the shattered chain of friendship between the two boys. They would never be so close again._

Hermione soon found her own wings to fly and left Harry involuntary to find her Own Path. Harry let her go without a fight, as he knew his destiny and accepted it, without hesitation. At least their parting wasn't as torturous or hurtful as Ron's was. She had at least waited for another two years to pass, helping Harry win the Tri-wizard Tournament.

Yet, the Lord did not leave Harry forsaken after he had touched such joy and light. For obeying thy Lord in letting Ginny Weasley go, the Almighty One tasked his mightiest warrior, the Archangel Michael, to save the life of Cedric Diggory from his fate. Allowing the soul to be by his side a bit later, as it had be pre-ordained, rather than taken away before his time due to the meddling of a soul who had cheated death one too many times.

Cedric Diggory, despite leaving Hogwarts and therefore Harry in some manner of speaking, kept a line of correspondence with his fellow Champion. He would remain one of Harry's staunchest allies in the upcoming war with the resurrected Dark Lord as both saw first hand his cruelty and malice.

In spite of all warnings, the Wizarding World decided to turn their back on the few who tried to protect it. The Ministry of Magic attacked their young symbol by slandering him in any way possible, mostly through his Faith. Harry still kept his head high, protected by Michael and by the accustomed solitude he had known since childhood.

And when the time came, four years later, where Harry faced the Dark Lord in battle face-to-face, the young boy, now a young man, felt serene as not once did he stray and loose his most precious thing. For all the observers on the battlefield, they saw Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Savior, charge onto the Dark Lord with a flaming sword in his hand and with a Holy Light at his back.

In truth, it was the Great Prince, The Lord's Greatest of All Warriors, the Archangel Michael who claimed the Mortal Coil of his charge to smite the Enemy upon which Lily Potter, née Evans, had called him forth for. And when his Flaming Sword struck the spirit straight through the heart, Michael gathered the blackened soul to pass it on to his counterpart when concerning deathly matters: Samael, the Angel of Death. Together, both angels flew back to Heaven to bring before the Gates of Paradise the soul that needed to be judged, before Michael rushed back to his charge.

The Angel of Protection stayed only a month, just to be sure that his charge of seventeen years was safe and sound in body and soul, before finally leaving him for good. He had done his duty, as commanded by His Lord Almighty and could now concentrate on his more regular tasks.

As for Harry Potter? Well, let us say that he was finally living the life he wanted, surrounded by friends and family that he was once forbidden to have. His happiness and joy growing each day to the Lord, never to loose his faith until the true day of his death.

And to his children, be it sired by him or not, he taught them the Law of the Lord in it's purest form so that they too could follow it and reap the rewards he had gained as well. He also taught them a valuable lesson that he himself had learn early in life:

All powers come with a price, be it good or bad. But know that even in sorrow and despair, happiness and joy could come from it if we do not loose our faith. Like a diamond in the mud, shining brighter than any pebble among treasures.

It is not a matter of religion, but rather in what you believe in yourself. For, by believing in something, happiness shall always come your way, whether it be sooner or later, that is up to you.

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**AN: So, a quick translation for most of the terms I used, especially for the prayer.**

**Rough translation of the prayer:**

**Hebrew version with "vowels" (reading from right to left):**

אֱלֹהִי,ם, אֱלֹהִים,אֱלֹהִים.

הֵגֵן, שָׁמַר מְיֻשָּׁן דָּם מוֹקֵשׁ דָּם, בָּשָׂר מוֹקֵשׁ בָּשָׂר. נָתַן מְיֻשָּׁן שׁוֹמֵר הֵגֵן מִכְרֶה יֶלֶד עַד אֲשֶׁרמְיֻשָּׁן אוֹיֵב הָיָה מְחֻסָּל.

**Hebrew version without "vowels" (reading from right to left):**

אלוהים, אלוהים, אלוהים.

להגן על עמך דם של הדם שלי, שלי בשר בשר. תן נפשך אפוטרופוס להגן על עיני ילד עד אויבך נעלם.

**English version:**

_God, God, God. _

_Protect thy blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh. Let thy guardian protect mine child till thy enemy is gone._

**Terms that I used:**

_Mala'ak_ means _Angel_ in Hebrew.


End file.
